


I'll cover you

by Kat2107



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch!McCree, Blackwatch!Reyes, Discussions of Sexual Assault, I'm Sorry, M/M, Power Imbalance, This is just a thinly veiled excuse for porn, allusions to torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-01-05 02:21:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12181026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat2107/pseuds/Kat2107
Summary: McCree was ready for the field. Except for that one little thing Reyes insisted on: It started with torture, hit a high note on resistance and ended with training.Nobody expected McCree to fail. And nobody expected the reason. Least of all Gabriel Reyes.But he had yet to shy away from a challenge.And if McCree needed experience... he'll be happy to take care of him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story features a strong age difference and power imbalance.  
> It also mentions subjects of torture, sexual abuse and features a short occurence of non-consensual sexual contact, as well as a panic attack. 
> 
> That said: It's not half as dire as that sounds, but please, if you have trouble with any of that: Heed the warnings and read with caution. 
> 
>  
> 
> PS: It might look like Gabe is cheating... you'll have to trust me there. 
> 
> And always remember: Push the payload. GL HF.

Jack entered the room with the low snick of the door and scent of freshly brewed coffee

“How’s he doing?”

Without looking away from the naked figure that slouched in a sturdy metal chair on the other side of the two-way mirror, Gabe reached behind himself and was rewarded with a ceramic mug, black, just a dash of sugar to sweeten the bite. He tried the same with his expression and a smile but judging from Jack’s expression as the Strike Commander stepped next to him, he failed.

“If God sent an angel to tell Jesse McCree to build a boat, the answer would be ‘Go fuck yourself, you don’t get to tell me what to do.’”

“Only with more twang,” Jack added, unable to hide his affection for the young man, nor his worry. “It’s not working?” 

In the barren interrogation room, the subject of their talk sat hunched forward with his hands curled loosely around the legs of his chair to keep himself from jerking on the restraints. He had learned that quickly once the blood had started to flow. A black hood covered his head, the cloth dense enough to make breathing hard, yet the steady rise of McCree’s chest barely changed. 

He looked for all intents and purposes like he didn’t give a shit about his situation or the man yelling at him, nor the bruises and abrasion that already littered his body. It took Gabriel Reyes to see how he tilted his head, listening attentively for information or a chance. 

“Oh, it’s working fine. Doster’s in his head, alright.” Gabe took a small sip from his mug and curled his lips into half a smile. “Thing is, he may be in Jesse’s head, but there is something else in there that he’ll have real trouble overthrowing.” 

Jack mustered the display in the interrogation room again, the metal table, the concrete walls, and the naked lamp overhead, and refused to fall for the bait for all of five seconds. “And what is that?”

Gabe lifted his coffee cup to his lips again, outwardly unperturbed. “Jesse McCree.” 

McCree didn’t just autopilot and wait for the session to end. He paid attention, he engaged, hood or no hood. He even baited his interrogator a little, only to pull back before he taunted his interrogator into real action, but not without having given Doster the feeling that he could achieve more by not hurting McCree. 

“I know that he can out-stubborn with the best of them. That boy insists on dressing like a cowboy in  _ your _ unit.” Jack pressed, now searching for signs of distress in their prisoner, beyond the obvious. 

Gabe shook his head. “Nah, he’s fine. He’s clever. He’s strong.”

“He’s eighteen.” 

“Three-quarters.”

Jack audibly swallowed an acerbic response to Gabriel’s quip. 

“He’s too young, Gabe.”

He was. And he wasn’t even the first Gabe had to watch go through this. 

“I wish he wasn’t, Jack, but that’s a luxury we - that  _ he _ \- can’t afford. That kid had more kills under his belt by age 16 than the guy interrogating him has now. That..?” He pointed into the room. “is not someone who’s never been witness to torture.

I gave him as much time as I could to catch up on being a teenager. He is ready for the field but in my line of work, I can’t let him go out there unprepared. I won’t and you know it.” He half turned towards Jack, one eye still on McCree. The coffee in his hand was quickly cooling and for just a moment, Gabe wished Jack had poured more sugar in. He was closing in on 30 hours awake, taking care of McCree’s “abduction” and the aftermath, supervising the interrogation. Things that he refused to hand off. 

“It sucks. But hell, we almost killed ourselves a hundred times over just so we only have one kid like that in here and not a dozen, eh Boywonder?”

Jack snorted and finally lowered his gaze from the room and to Gabriel in a moment of shared understanding. 

“You’re here the whole time?” he asked, softer than the Strike Commander ever allowed himself to be. 

Gabe reached over and curled a hand over his neck. “What do you think?”

“Yeah. Alright. Sorry. I didn’t want to doubt you. I just…” Jack rubbed a hand over his face and twisted his face into an approximation of a crooked smile. 

“I know.” Gabe allowed his voice to soften in turn before he kicked his face into a grin for Jack’s sake. “Fuck off, Morrison, get back to your office and look pretty until I get out of here and can do your job again.”

That got Gabe a huff of a laugh. 

“You’re an asshole, Reyes.”

“I know. Kiss?”

And this got him a fleeting touch of warm lips, a taste of fresh coffee and donuts. 

 

Jack left feeling better. Gabe stayed behind feeling like a piece of shit. 

 

Beyond the mirror Doster had switched tactics, no longer yelling, just talking nice and friendly about all the good Jesse could do with the fake information he had, about all the crimes and the evil his people did. They never specified who Jesse’s people were, it didn’t matter, the tactic stayed the same.  

Break him down, lure him in, terrify him to his bones and then promise him security. 

There were times when Gabriel Reyes thought Overwatch - and its Strike Commander - didn’t understand the work they did. And then there were times when Jack called him and told him he had a Doctor of psychology with a specialization in interrogation and psychic trauma, did he want him on his roster? 

Did he want another freak that could get him the info they desperately needed to save lives  _ and _ that could train and take care of their own to make them the most resilient, strongest SOBs and DOBs on this planet? 

 

“Tommy…” Doster now said, planting himself firmly inside McCree’s personal space, already vulnerable for his lack of clothing. “...if that is even your real name. I do not want to hurt you.” 

He bent down, leaving barely an inch between his lips and Jesse’s ear and like that, everything changed. 

His fingers curled around the prisoner’s neck in a proprietary grip, pulling McCree against the restraints and closer until skin almost touched.

“But I will, if I have to, to save innocent lives. There is nothing I will not do.” 

His hand slipped from Jesse’s neck down his back as he bent his head and brushed a kiss on McCree’s naked, sweat-sheened shoulder, just with a little lick for emphasis. “You understand, don’t you?”

Gabe drained his coffee to wash away the foul taste in his mouth at McCree’s reaction.

How his muscles locked under the unwelcome touch, his head turning away from Doster, breaking his relaxed defensive pose for the first time since the interrogation began. Slow tremors ran down his arms with the sheer effort it took for him to not jerk on the restraints. 

Doster looked up and at the mirror, searching Gabriel’s gaze through the glass. The psychologists face had lost the passionate expressions of the game he had played earlier, replaced by worry. 

He was good at his job and he cared.

The only reason why Gabe trusted him with McCree and didn’t do this himself. Well, that and the fact that Gabriel still needed the young man’s trust after this was over.

“Don’t make me do this to you, Tommy. Help me to save you from this.”

Doster’s other hand came up, scratching just lightly over the barely-there hair on McCree’s chest, flattening into a purely sexual caress to slowly, gently stroke down his belly. 

 

Jesse threw back his head, choked cry muffled by the hood over his head, a broken little sound as his calm shattered into a battering of small panicked breaths and his hands tore at the shackles that tied him to the chair.

Gabriel had no time to notice the way McCree’s hands shook against the cold metal or how his feet dug into the ground to try and push the chair back, despite the bolts fixing it to the spot. 

He felt the oncoming panic attack like a freight train barreling towards them and started running before his brain had fully formulated a coherent response to the situation.   
Doster would break off the moment he noticed something amiss but at the end of the day, Gabriel Reyes trusted nobody with Jesse McCree because Jesse trusted nobody like he did him. Ana came close, Jack, maybe.    
But not like Gabriel.

Too young, his mind screamed at him. Too vulnerable. 

But damn, Jesse had done so well. 

Doster stood with his datapad against the other door, as far away from McCree as physically possible, by the time Gabriel barrelled into the room. He acknowledged Gabriel with a silent nod, his pupils blown wide in his pale grey eyes. 

Gabe returned the nod and jerked his head to the door. “Clear a path. I’ll take care of him.” 

Doster had barely time to leave the room before Gabe gently pulled the hood off McCree’s head and crouched in front of him, careful not to touch the boy’s trembling body.

“Hey, Jesse…” 

He reached out slowly and let his hands hover a handspan over Jesse’s shoulders. 

“Look at me, kid. Can you tell me where you are?” 

The lights dimmed at that moment and Gabe thanked Doster’s quick thinking. Not bad for a part-time academic. 

Jesse’s watery eyes blinked aimlessly through the room, locking on everything but Gabe. 

“Jesse. Look at me. You are safe. Can you tell me where you are?”

Jesse nodded. 

“Tell me your name, kid.”

No answer. 

“Do you know who I am?”

This got him a reaction, a tiny spark of recognition and interest in the cognac colored eyes, a twitch of annoyance, understanding, as McCree softly croaked Gabe’s name. 

“Reyes, Gabriel. Blackwatch commander.” 

Jesse deflated. “Sorry, jefe.” 

Somewhere in those eyes, a too bright sheen gathered as Jesse became aware of what just happened.

“No, hey…” Gabe snapped his fingers. “You’re fine. You had a panic attack. It happens.” 

He slowly lowered his hands until they almost touched Jesse’s shoulder. “May I touch you?”

Jesse choked out an affirmative and almost fell forward into the embrace of Gabriel’s arms. 

Gabe kept the touch firm and secure, applying pressure with the side of his head against Jesse’s as he worked to unlock the cuffs. 

“You’re ok, kid. We all have our triggers.”

“I failed,” Jesse mumbled into the fabric of Gabe’s hoodie where his face rested mushed against his Commander’s shoulders. He let Gabe carefully bring his arm forward, taking pressure off the shoulders as he placed them in Jesse’s lap with only minimal contortionist practice. 

“I can do it next time,” he added with his inborn stubbornness and Gabriel almost laughed as he leaned back and curled both his palms around McCree’s face. 

“That’s not about whether or not you can do it, McCree.” The pad’s of his thumbs carefully wiped the wetness of his protegé’s cheeks. “I know you can do it. You just can’t do it right now. Right now, someone needs to take care of you. You need fluids, food, rest. A shower. Then we’ll work on this trigger of yours.”

He sharply raised a finger when McCree opened his mouth to protest. 

“No backtalk, kid. I’m still your Commander.” 

Gabriel pulled his hoodie over his head hiding his relief in the gesture. As long as McCree still had it in him to be contrary, he was alright. 

 

~~~

 

The corridors leading to his quarters were blessedly empty. More brownie points for Doster. If there were brownie points for just doing your job in their line of work. 

He shuffled McCree along, ridiculously vulnerable in a pair of hospital pyjamas and slippers and Gabriel’s hoodie thrown over it. 

He was a fucking kid, still, had only just begun to fill those 6’’ something he had shot up to once they had given him some proper nutrition, medical care and taken away the drugs and the alcohol. 

His shoulders already broadened from the lanky kid with the gangly limbs that Gabriel had picked out of the rubble that once had been Deadlock. Now though, as he sat at the lone table in Gabriel’s quarters, swimming in the black hoodie, and his bandaged hands protectively curled around a bottle of electrolyte water…

Maybe Jack had been right and it was too soon. On the other hand, McCree had fielded the interrogation like a champ and _Jack Morrison,_ of all people, had no room to talk. The last time Gabriel had been that worried was when an 18-year-old Indiana boy had stumbled out of a botched training session and locked himself into the bathroom to spend the next hour puking his guts out.

_ I’m Special Forces, Gabe, I need to be able to handle this! - Yeah, but you’re also an idiot from Indiana who talks to horses and tries to discuss politics with me and who I bet still gets off on porn magazines! _

 

When the microwave dinged, Gabe carried the bowl over to the table along with a smaller bowl of sour cream and a spoon. He and McCree shared the same eating habits. Hot, meat, with carbs and sour cream as needed. 

“Eat slow, you haven’t had anything for more than a day.” 

Maybe not the smartest move to feed him chili then but it had served as McCree’s favorite comfort food after they had brought him in a year earlier and it would do its job well enough now. 

A bit of his usual spark returned to McCree’s eyes as he grinned around the first spoonful. 

“Thanks, mom.” 

“For fuck's sake, McCree keep your mouth shut. You’re disgusting,” Gabe complained, turning to the sink just in time to grin at the wall.  

 

Gabriel let him eat for a while, stashing his guns in the bedroom and grabbing another hoodie and a bottle of electrolyte water. McCree probably had lost some time in that room, but his body still had worked hard through the last 23 hours. 

Fuck, McCree had come so close to just breezing through this with flying colors. With the way he had come back, he would have aced the debrief. 

“You care to tell me what happened earlier in the interrogation, McCree?” 

Gabe leaned against the bedroom doorway and watched closely as Jesse immediately tensed, just a flicker of a tell before he got himself under control and shifted into an easy shrug. 

“Dunno, maybe I’m just not a fan of sexual molestation?”

Gabe huffed and pushed away from the doorway to go and replace the empty water bottle with the fresh one. “Who is? I bit the first guy who tried that with me. Broke the nose of the next before I got my reactions under control.” He stepped away again, giving the kid the breathing room and the privacy.  

“I’ll be honest with you, I make it a habit to watch the training of each of my agents and so far I have witnessed only three panic attacks.” 

There were dirty dishes in the sink because Gabriel Reyes didn’t give a fuck about more than basic order in his quarters if he didn’t have to. Convenient. Jack usually did them when he came over. 

He turned on the tap and filled the sink and the room with another sound but Jesse’s too loud breathing and the words that worked him up like this. 

“Both had been victims of abuse that they hadn’t disclosed or hadn’t remembered at that point.” Silence behind him. “This isn’t just a test, Jesse. We need to know your weak points and shore them up, give you the tools to work around them when shit goes wrong and you need to survive until we come to break you out. One of them had to leave Blackwatch because she couldn’t get past it, the other tough-”

“It’s not that!” Jesse’s voice cracked on the words, strained to breaking point in the rush to get the words out. “I’m fine. I swear. It’s not that.” 

Gabe paused, tested the water, his back firmly turned towards McCree to keep the illusion of privacy alive. 

“Then what is, Jesse? I can promise you one thing, with the shit I have seen, the last thing I’ll do is judge you.”

“Yeah…” Jesse huffed with an unconvinced tone. 

This time, Gabe cast a quick glance over his shoulder to find a red-faced boy at his table, shoulder curled inward in embarrassment as he stabbed the chili with the spoon. 

“Jesse,” he tried again, softer, “talk to me.”

Jesse made a face, glancing up a second until Gabe turned away again. “I didn’t know what to do, ok? It was just… too much. I’ll… it won’t happen again.” 

Something in his tone--- 

Gabriel threw two plates and 4 coffee cups into the sink and took a deep breath. 

“Jesse… have you ever had sex before?”

Silence. And then a soft, insecure. “Yeah?” 

It was so easy to forget that they Blackwatch had picked him up when he was seventeen. He carried himself with so much confidence if not outright swagger that insecurity just didn’t register on anyone’s radar when it came to Jesse McCree.  

“Alright, McCree. Here’s how we gonna do this, because I’m not saying you’re a liar but that was the most unconvincing yeah I heard in my fucking life: I will go through a few things and you either tap the table once for no or twice for yes. Got it?” 

“Yeah.”

“McCree...”

“Once for no, twice for yes, sir.”

“Good. Have you been kissed?” 

“You’re not gonna…”

“McCree!” 

Gabe rinsed the first plate and smiled at the foam in the sink as he got a double tap. That was easier in any case than trying to talk to an obstinate teenager about his sexual history. 

Not to talk about the fact that McCree didn’t have the strength to go through another interrogation today. 

“Gotten a handjob?” This time the double tap came immediately, albeit amidst grumbling. 

“Given a handjob? Male, female counts both.” 

Double tap. 

“Gotten a blowjob?” There was a pause, then a hesitant double tap. 

Gabe didn’t call him out on it, just cleaned the first coffee cup of a 4 am crust of dried sugar residue. 

“Given a blowjob?” 

Another, very hesitant tap and this time Gabe chimed in. 

“I gotta ask this, Jesse, no judgment. Tap to answer: Was it of your own free will?”

Another hesitant double tap, a pause, then Jesse mumbled a low: “I was hungry, ok?”

“Absolutely valid reason, mijo.” 

Gabe raised the cup to the light and finally pulled a hunting knife from the drawer to get rid of the hard baked crust. 

“Should just soak them right when I throw them in the sink. Anyways... Fucked a woman.” 

One tap. Silence. 

“Fucked a man?” No tap at all until Gabe placed the cup on the drying rack. 

“I’ll take that as a no.”

Gabe cast a glance to the table and found a blushing heap of misery staring back at him.

“Has anybody ever fucked you, Jesse? Penetrative sex in any form? Fingers count.”

Silence.  

“So, you have no idea what to do when someone tries to use sex against you because you never had any beyond the bare basics. That about it?”

A nod. 

Gabriel tried hard to keep a lid on his temper. He didn’t actually want to scare the idiot, just...

“We talked it through beforehand, Jesse. You  _ knew  _ this would come up and you said nothing.”

“I could’ve taken it! I can take it!” Jesse hissed, falling back on the exact kind of behaviour they had taken a year to train out of him. 

Gabe chucked the knife into kitchen cupboard door, already having stalked three steps before he caught himself in the apprehension on the boy’s face. 

“Jesse... “ Gabe raked a hand through his hair, pulling his customary beanie off in the process, only to throw it onto the table. “You could’ve gotten hurt, for fuck's sake. You  _ did  _ get hurt! You had a giant glaring weak point and because you keep thinking we’re out to get you, YOU GOT HURT, YOU MORON!” 

Gabe grabbed the back of the chair on the opposite side of the table, as far away from his dumbass protegé as possible and took a deep breath. “I can’t believe I didn’t ask you beforehand.” 

He forced another breath, forced himself to take a step back from his temper. 

“I’m sorry, Jesse. I made a mistake assuming you had certain experiences because you were in a gang. I’m not really mad at you. Only half. Because that was stupid. Not that I’m surprised. For someone as intelligent as you are, you sometimes do incredibly dumb shit, mijo.”

McCree stared at him, still red as a tomato, but one corner of his mouth curled into a sheepish smile. 

“I just… I don’t like women, ok? At least not the kind … I mean. I don’t like it when they don’t really have a choice, you know? And I prefer…,” Jesse broke off and shoveled a spoonful of chili into his mouth, chewed, swallowed. 

Gabe did him the favor. “You prefer men,” he stated the obvious. 

News to him, but between all the news of the last hours, not the most surprising. “And that might’ve been received badly in a gang like Deadlock. So you did your required minimum to what? Throw them off? And did your thing. Or didn’t, in that case?”

Jesse licked the spoon clean and shrugged. 

“Don’t ever do that again, McCree. You’re unsure about something: you come to me.”

“I wasn’t unsure,” Jesse protested. 

“Yeah. And isn’t that the problem?” Gabe threw his beanie at his virgin prodigy. “You weren’t unsure but don’t tell me you weren’t terrified. You had no way to tell how far he would go.”

“How far would he have gone?” 

Of course, because McCree was a little shit, he had to try and get the info for the next time. 

“Can’t tell. Wouldn’t tell you if I knew. But see, Jesse, this is not a test. This is training but it’s also evaluation. Whoever is in there with you is gonna try hard to find your breaking points. Be glad you panicked. I am.”

“Oh.” Jesse shuddered. “Ok.”

But because he was Jesse McCree and nothing could keep him down for long he raised the spoon and then… he went back to eating for real. Eating and speaking. 

“What now? The same spiel again? You throw me back in there and see what walks out again?”

“I will. Eventually. Until then I have several options.”

Gabriel slid into the chair in front of him and brought them eye to eye.

“One: We get you special sessions with Doc Doster to cover our bases as best as we can and hope nothing too bad happens if something bad happens. I’m not gonna lie. You did damn good in there. Still, theory is no comparison to reality.”

McCree’s eyes sharpened. “You know, don’t you.” 

Gabe smiled. “I know why I put you through this, Jesse.”    
Jesse gulped and nodded. 

“Option two: I keep you off the active roster and put you on non-public backup for Overwatch.”

He didn’t give Jesse a chance to speak. “Which you’ll hate, I know, but I’m considering it.”

“Option three:-”

“I put in some practice?”

Gabe huffed a surprised laugh. “Yes, pretty much.”

“Ok. Cool. Let’s do this.”

For a moment, Gabriel couldn’t quite decide if it was typical McCree bravado to front like this or if he was serious, but Jesse just smiled. 

“It was a life or death question to not get found out. Not a choice or anything. Just… Hey, I have some trust issues. Cut a man some slack.”

Gabriel stapled his fingers together, alternative to pulling at his hair. It was too short to pull at and even if it wasn’t, he didn’t want to go prematurely bald just because Jesse McCree was an idiot.

“So you what? You go through the Blackwatch roster and find someone you think you can trust and invite them to fuck you until you’re too sore to walk?”

“Yeah, well, jefe… it’s a practical solution. You like practical solutions. “

“I do.” Gabriel sighed and got up. 

“And unless you wanna buy me a hooker or got some other utterly brilliant id…,” McCree start out with confidence and faltered as Gabriel got closer. 

He rounded the table, one big hand splayed on the scratched table top where he wrote his post-mission reports. He leaned in, but where he would have loomed under normal circumstances, grinned like the predator he was to let his prey know about his intentions, he softened his expression as he curled his right hand over Jesse’s chin. 

“Do you trust me, McCree?” 

Jesse's eyelashes fluttered at the touch and his lips parted like he just had been handed the secret to the universe. He breathed a soft sigh and his eyes locked on Gabriel’s face, looking for the truth there. 

He found it, obviously. 

“Hell yeah, boss… So much hell yeah.” 

“Ok,” Gabe murmured, thumb slowly brushing over McCree’s lower lip. “If you want me to, we’ll do this. Or I give you suggestions on others you can go to. Or heck, I give you money for a hooker. Your decision. I will not question it.”

He heard Jesse’s breath hitch and watched his Adam’s apple bop while he searched for words. 

“Will that get me in trouble with Morrison?” 

Gabe ran his thumb back and forth slowly, forgetting for a moment that he shouldn’t be coercing his protége while negotiating sex, but damn if the kid could look more eager…

And just a little too smug at calling Gabe out on his relationship. A relationship that was not supposed to be common knowledge and wasn’t. 

“Why should Morrison care?” he asked and gave McCree a little more room.

“As you like to point out, sir, I may do dumb shit now and then but I am not exactly an idiot.”

He leaned closer when Gabe dropped his hand, following the contact with something that came dangerously close to greed.  “I just need to know the level of secrecy we’re operating under here, sir. I don’t want a pissed off supersoldier ripping me to shreds because I… you know?”

He gestured between them. 

Rumour had it that Gabriel Reyes was a kinky fucker who got off on ropes, blood and battle. That was only half true. What really got him going, was competence. He liked the high of battle, of victory and survival and all of that was what had initially endeared Jack Morrison to him, despite his midwestern naivité and the boring white boy charm. Above all this, it had been his sheer competence, though. 

You told Morrison you needed shit done and shit got done. And damn if Gabriel didn’t forget about that now and then, until a half-grown gunslinger asked to be fucked and followed it up with barely veiled suggestions to silence people because he knew how Gabe worked. 

Competence.

Lucky for all involved, Gabe knew how Jack worked, too.

“Leave Jack to me and things that don’t belong in the public out of it. Without damaging any members of the organization if possible.” 

“Got it, sir,” McCree verbally saluted. 

“And for fuck's sake, McCree, call me Gabriel or Reyes when we’re doing this. I may get off on you actually following military protocol, but not in the way you seem to think.”

“Ok…” Gabe watched McCree readjust his world. “...Gabriel.” Proud smile and all. 

“Do you want me to suck you off?” The gang kid then asked.

Gabe spanned McCree’s hips with his broad hands, slowly letting them brush upwards over the thin material of the hospital pyjama and under the hoodie until he found skin and that hungry spark in McCree’s eyes he had been looking for. 

“No,” he said to that ganger. “I want you to stop me the moment you feel uncomfortable. This is not a trade-off. This is about you.” 

He barely waited for McCree’s silent nod and leaned in to bring their mouths together while his hands slid up the cowboy’s back, feeling warm skin, scars, firm muscle and the kind of sinewy strength that made survivors.

McCree opened to him on an exhale and closed his eyes, lips firm and sweet, tasting so different to Jack. Coffee, Gabe’s toothpaste from his shower earlier, the undeniable tang of smoke. McCree tasted older than Jack ever had. He was also much less shy. 

Gabe grinned when he deepened the kiss and was welcome by the curious touch of a tongue that led him into a catch me if you can that he ended by grabbing McCree’s waist and pulling their bodies close enough that McCree noticed exactly what this kind of invitation was doing to Gabriel. 

“Whoa!” 

McCree broke away with a laugh and gave Gabriel the chance to rid him of the hoodie. “That’s… happening then.” 

A scar ran along McCree’s right shoulder, a bullet that had barely missed his neck and head. The bullet that had brought him down, a lucky shot by one of Gabriel’s men, faded from angry red to a deep pink in the span of little more than a year. 

Gabriel dropped his lips to the distorted skin and licked a long stripe along, relishing McCree’s slow shudder, much different than his reactions in the interrogation room. 

“You have full control. You say stop. No matter when, no matter what we are doing, I stop.”

Gabe gave him a moment for the words to sink in and then gently dug his teeth into the soft skin above McCree’s collarbone to slowly nibble his way up the cowboy’s neck. 

“Shit,” McCree breathed, half gone and Gabe couldn’t resist asking. 

“Good shit or bad shit?”

“Good shit! Do that again.” 

“Ok.” Gabe laughed and did as demanded while he slowly walked McCree backwards to the bed. “You like teeth, Jesse?” 

His quarters were not big, bigger than a common soldier’s, sure, with a kitchenette and room for an actual sitting area besides his bed, but he could have done better, had he decided to take a room in the command wing, away from his men and women. 

As it stood, instead of a bedroom, he only had the sleeping area behind the bookcases that he used as a room divider. 

McCree fell backwards onto the kingsize with a snorting “oomph” looking up at Gabe with a shit eating grin, all golden brown skin stretching over his fighter’s body and an unmistakable erection tenting his pants. 

“I guess I do now, sir.” He made a face. “Sorry.”

Gabe was not as much of a kinky man as the rumours made him out to be but he understood the things that sometimes fed people’s deepest desires and not just as part of his job. 

“You wanna keep calling me “sir”, Jesse?”

This time McCree shuddered at the use of his name and that decided that then even before his hesitant “May I?”

“You may, soldier.” 

McCree’s eyes became hooded but without the violent reaction. 

Instead, McCree watched really closely as Gabe pulled his own hoodie and shirt off and threw both to the side. He knew McCree had seen him half naked already, walking back into base dressed in nothing more than boots, pants and a bandage that plugged up the still sluggishly bleeding bullet hole in his side, but this was much different. 

“You’re fucking built, sir.” He couldn’t have missed the awe and admiration in his gunslinger’s voice had he tried. 

Gabe curled his hands around Jesse’s ankles and plucked the ridiculous slippers off before slowly caressing upwards along the outside of McCree’s legs. 

“Had the right drugs.” Gabe chuckled, pressing an open mouth kiss to the shadow of a happy trail below McCree’s navel, eyeing up at the young man’s face while his hands curled under his knees and pulled McCree’s legs apart to make room to get closer.

“Can I get some of those, too?”

“You don’t need them, trust me. You’ll fill out just fine, McCree.”

“Yeah?” 

McCree dropped his head on one of the two pillows - he hadn’t even noticed the fact - and breathed the question like he actually cared and was not utterly taken by Gabe’s lips brushing a teasing path up the outline of his erection through the pants, his hands splayed over McCree’s body, fingers brushing his nipples while holding him down. 

Gabriel just needed him to get his pretty head in the game, away from the knowledge of his vulnerability.

Crawling up McCree’s body to the young man's dismay, Gabriel left a trail of small kisses, small bites, learning this skin and the marks that riddled it.  Shallow burns the size of a cigarette, long cuts like scratches, the hitch in McCree’s breath when Gabriel lowered the weight on his body to cover McCree’s, held aloft only by his massive arms. 

“You ok there, Jesse?” 

He felt the young man relax under him and smiled, pressing their cocks together just enough to keep things interesting. 

“You keep asking me that…”McCree gasped, “...sir, I’ll start saying no just to-. Oh fuck, that feels nice.”

Maybe there had been a moment there when Gabe’s body had pressed down, where McCree tensed, survival instincts warring against need, but there wasn’t enough fear in McCree’s soul to wipe out the want and the greed for another slow roll of Gabriel’s hips.

Or the desperation from McCree’s voice. 

“You keep that up and I’m gonna come.”

Gabriel caught the skin of the younger man’s neck between his teeth and rumbled a laugh. Ok, screw going slow. McCree was staring Gabe with wide eyes and a fine sheen of sweat dotting his forehead, teeth dug into his lower lip with the kind of silence that belonged to the truly desperate.

Gabe rolled his hips again, admiring the hickey he had left on McCree’s neck and the low keen his boy made. Fuck, he probably should be naked for this, his BDUs with too many straps and buckles

Aw fuck. 

He reached between them and opened belt, button and zipper in one smooth motion. Battlefield experience with the aftermath of a few close calls and Jack convincing him they survived. 

He pushed the pants down, just out of the way, didn’t bother with his boxers. One of them would come and given the circumstances, it would not be him. He fell back into an easy rhythm before McCree even had the time to complain.

“Sir-” McCree panted into the smooth shifts of Gabe’s hips against his, head thrown back, his throat bared to the predator caging him with his arms. 

“You’re doing beautifully, Jesse.” Gabe murmured and lowered himself enough to steal a soft panting kiss. “Tell me to stop.”

He was just taking the edge off, he told himself, almost convincingly. He was not smug and very much not proud to be able to shoot McCree into the stratosphere so easily. 

“N-no… fuck no.” 

Gabe dug his fingers carefully into McCree’s overly long hair, watching his pretty face cycle through embarrassment, need and desperate lust, eyes wide and helplessly locked onto Gabe’s.

“Please, sir…” 

“Faster?” Gabe asked, just a little breathless. He didn’t pretend that the cowboy didn’t feel good under him, straining against his body, their cocks sliding against each other through the layers of cloth. 

“...pressure.” 

“Legs around me. C’mon, take what you need.” 

Jesse did as asked and uncurled his fingers from the duvet to dig them into Gabe’s shoulders. And shit, did he need to cut his fingernails!

Not an abuse of power, Gabe decided, to make him do that before he’d ever come close to fucking this boy. He pressed McCree’s body into the bed, picking up speed, meeting McCree’s uncoordinated thrust with rolling pushes of his own.

He could hear how right the pressure was in McCree’s little gasps and moans, leading him higher and higher faster with every passing moment.

When Jesse came with a keening cry, Gabe swore he felt those fingernails draw blood. He didn’t care. He held the trembling body against his shoulders, caging him with safety, his own hips shifting gently against the… well, the mess. 

Laughing softly, he pressed his lips against McCree’s temple. 

 

~~~

 

Shame followed as soon as the high abated. Just the thought of having lost it like that, the sounds he made like a ruddy street dog rutting against his commander. The comfort of Gabe’s smell, clean sweat, gun oil, coffee, how little Jesse wanted to get out of the protective shell of the body that stretched out above him. 

Knowing the weakness that wanted this… safety… the illusion that would get him killed some day. 

“Stop thinking,” Gabriel’s deep voice rumbled gently against his ear, sounding content where he was, his still raging hard-on uncomfortably sticky probably by the load Jesse had shot like a horny, inexperienced teenager…

He should fix that before leaving, try and salvage some of the respect his Commander had for him, a kid that had nothing going for him other than a good eye and some clever wits for tactics when they fought. They had been surprised to find McCree could read in the beginning and didn’t that say everything he needed to know?

“Do you want me to take care of-,” he murmured, shifting his hips - blergh - against Gabriel’s, eyes averted towards the strip of wall and ceiling he could see past his shoulder. A picture hung on the wall, crooked on a too long nail. Jesse could see the hole in the plaster that it covered. 

He had never quite noticed how big Gabriel Reyes’ hands were until he gently turned Jesse’s face back to look at him. 

“I should go,” Jesse tried again, caught in the unrelenting stare of the most dangerous man he’d ever known.

“Do you want to?” the man asked and brought the issue to the table. Though ‘no’ probably wouldn’t cut it as an answer. ‘I don’t really know what I am doing or what you are expecting of me’ didn’t either.

“Well…” Jesse made a face. “... I really should, you know, fix that.” Another cautious shift of his hips - blergh, drying jizz - “But other than that…?” He shrugged. “We’re kinda done here.”

Gabriel’s temper flared with the groove between his eyes.

“You know what, you stay right where you are while I go get something to clean you up and try to figure out what I’m supposed to do with you.”

He pushed himself up, anger evident in the way his muscles strained in his shoulders and Jesse followed without thought, trying to sit and stave off the post orgasmic haze that wanted to lure his exhausted mind into the easy reprieve of sleep.

Gabe had already made two steps, BDUs hanging tantalizingly low on his hips and bulge still evident in his boxers.

“Stay!” he ordered without bothering to stop.

“Then I'll fall asleep, boss.” Jesse hated how soft the words came out. The last thing he needed right now was to appear hesitant or soft. 

“And?” Gabriel stopped in the bathroom doorway and gripped the doorframe with one angry hand, his voice low and warm as he spoke.  

“Jesse… when was the last time someone took care of you?”

Easy answer. “When I got shot.” 

He remembered the big hands that had applied pressure to the wounds and then plain held him on the jet from the Gorge to base. The voice that had half threatened and half promised him a job if he’d pull through. The man that had gotten him second servings of food while Jesse lay handcuffed to the hospital bed.

Gabriel, though, seemed to remember it differently. “Kid, that was me making sure you’d survive…” 

McCree snorted with a yawn and sank deeper into the soft duvet of his commander’s bed. Definitely not standard issue that. 

He could admit to himself how he missed the warm cover of a broad body above him, the strength of the muscles cording those arms. 

But Gabriel remained in the warmth of the fabric under him and around him, a deep imprint and reminder that stayed even when the person was gone and stood in the doorway and looked at him with that look that always made McCree consider the possibility that the SEP had given his Commander mindreading abilities. 

“We almost lost you then. You blanked a few times on the flight and once almost coded.” Gabriel scoffed. “When you’re unconscious you look your age, did you know that? And all I could think of was that this dumb kid never had a chance to become a man he’d be proud of, instead, he was hooked up to IVs and fighting for a life that he’d spend in prison anyways.”

He shook his head and vanished into the bathroom and all McCree could do was call after him. 

“Shit happens when you party naked, Boss!”

His reward came in form of an undignified snort. “You have no idea how to party naked, McCree.”

 

Reyes reappeared, clad in a pair of drawstring sleeping pants that sat dangerously low on his hips, a washcloth in hand and composure very much restored. 

“But we’re gonna fix that.” 

“You could’ve fixed that already boss.” McCree still floated on a rather comfortable cloud of post orgasmic endorphins or he probably would’ve used a little more caution. Contrary to popular belief he was a survivor first and himself second. But he did, so he wasn’t. “Why didn’t you just fuck me and be done with it?” 

Reyes sighed, the whole line of his body a picture of unsurprised disappointment. “Sometimes, I forget how fucked up you are.” 

“What?” McCree complains. “That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it?”

“McCree…” Gabe pinched the base of his nose. “You’re not here for a quicky-and-be-done-with-it. I mean, excuse me, if  _ you  _ are, but I am not. It’s-” Reyes checked his watch. “7 pm. We both are off duty tomorrow. Did you really think this was it?”

Nature had blessed Jesse with a deeply golden skin that didn’t lend itself easily to blushing but as Reyes tried to come closer without actually stalking for once and knelt at the foot of the bed and asked with that fond look on his face that was a bit sad and a bit angry at the world whether McCree’d let him take off the cheap hospital pants…

He tried to not turn into the living embodiment of an ashamed tomato.

Of course, he failed.

“We got time, Jesse,” Gabriel kept talking in that low tone of voice. “This is not something to just be done with it. This…” he said, as he cleaning Jesse’s still pliant body with the warm, wet cloth, “..was just to take the edge off.”

The flaming in McCree’s cheeks only got worse and he grabbed the next best thing - pillow - and pulled it over his head before he answered. 

Reyes laughed. “What was that?” 

The pillow got pulled away and he looked into the grinning face of his commander.

“Well, at least it was over quickly,” Jesse bit out and Reyes shook his head. 

“Hot damn, kid, do you really believe that matters? 

Let me tell you a secret. The what, how, whom and where of you having sex has exactly zero bearing on who you are as a person. Those who tell you otherwise, are men who look into a mirror and see nothing worth being called a man. How you treat those who are weaker, who need your help, how you fight your enemies  and how treat your equals… that’s what defines you. If you like it, if your partner is game? That’s all sex is about. And guess what? I liked that.” 

He smiled a daredevil smile that sank all the way to McCree’s marrow with the promise of more that vibrated in it and in the gravel of Reyes’ voice. 

“I liked the way you gave up your armor for a moment there. And you needed some positive touch after that day. And so did I. ok?” He dropped down onto the bed and works the duvet free to pull it over both of them. “The rest can wait til later, after a nap.”

The ‘I’m not tired’ already lay on McCree’s tongue but Reyes’ gaze caught him guiltily before he could speak. 

“We’ve both been awake for more than 30 hours, McCree. Shut up. It’s ok. Let an old man have some rest.”

Rumours had it that Reyes’ record of going without sleep came close to 100 hours. McCree believed them but he was not about to protest the warmth of the big body that curved around his and the arm that snuck around his middle and just swathed him in safety. 

“Alright there, Jesse?”

McCree exhaled slowly and allowed himself to sink into the embrace. Just a little nap to smooth down the last remnants of his frazzled nerves, getting some energy to… yeah, well, that. Later. 

Later. 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you might have noticed, the chapter count has changed.  
> Yeah, thanks to those assholes. They had different ideas ^^

First, there was panic.

No, wrong. First, there was warmth and softness and a heavy arm wrapped around McCree’s middle.

 _Then_ there was panic.

The arm tightened, then let him go as a deep voice rumbled over the galloping rhythm of his heartbeat.

“Easy, Jesse, you’re safe.”

McCree exhaled slowly and sank back into the soft warmth and against the big body behind him before he pulled the arm back around his middle.

Aside from the waking up in strange circumstances part, it felt damn nice there. Almost as nice as the pair of massive thighs that curved along the back of his own and the muscles shifting under warm skin against his back.

Everything felt nice and he was in his commander's bed.

He was in Gabriel Reyes’ bed!

“I’m ‘fraid to ask boss, but… did I dream?”

Gabriel’s laugh rumbled all the way along his back, from McCree’s shoulders to his hips and lower where their bodies met and ...alright…

“Guess not.”

“Nope!” Reyes supplied and almost as if that had been his queue, his hand began to move, small circles over McCree’s stomach, not much just… like the first careful breaths that kindled a flame.

Slow and calming like he’d seen real vaqueros do with nervous horses. And whatever he was and whatever he had been earlier, he was not a spooked horse.

Turning took some shifting, among other things of his ass against Gabriel’s crotch. It almost cost him the blanket before Gabriel tugged in back in place.

Safe. Warm. And the man’s other arm had been McCree’s pillow.

He took in the amused curved to Gabriel’s mouth, the softness in his dark eyes that must be a trick of the light, the way his shoulder muscles sloped around what other people defined as a general piece of anatomy and what SEP had turned into art. A more learned man, one who had read a book now and then, might have known statues beautiful enough to compare it, but McCree was just McCree.

He grinned. “Hi.”

Gabriel chuckled. “Hello Jesse. Slept well?”

Like a stone. Like he normally only did when the door to his quarters was locked twice, the chair rammed under the door and his gun on his bedside table. Bar any nightmares, of course.

“Time ‘s it?” He mumbled in lieu of an answer, suddenly faced with the fact that now, facing Gabriel, he’d have to put his hands somewhere.

“10 pm.” Gabriel responded, suddenly too close.

Three hours and a whole night ahead of them. “Guess we’re doing this?” McCree searched his face for second thoughts but found only a certain fondness. Not the belittling kind, more like the patient kind.

“You tell me.”

Gabriel lifted his hand and brushed back a stray lock of McCree’s hair, easy with the tenderness like he were not the most dangerous man in the world or had a reputation to keep up or how it stole McCree’s breath.

“Yeah.” McCree still didn’t quite know what to do with his hand. “We are,” he murmured.

“Good. You can touch me by the way. I’m not gonna break your fingers, McCree. Scout’s honor.”

“However I want?”

Reyes hesitated a second and kicked back the blanket, baring his body - that. body! -  to the dim light falling through the cracks of the blinds.

“It’s all yours, cowboy,” he smirked and rolled onto his back, folding his hands behind his head. “Just try not to hurt me, alright? Fair warning. It’s a trigger.”

“Ok.”

Jesse licked his lips, squashing the thought of how a trigger like that might have come to be in favor of just running his palm up the chiseled abs and over Gabe’s pecs and the dark hair that dusted it all.

This fucking body. He risked a glance towards the black boxer shorts. Heck, he’d seen it earlier and hell…

And the hips, no man should have hips this narrow. Or shoulders that broad. Or skin that perfect, even with all the scars. So many scars.

He wanted to touch them all. After a quick glance at the smile on his Commander’s face, he did. And then he kissed a few.

The jagged one that curved right along the right side of Reyes' costal arch.

“OR12. Cut me open after I shot off its gun.” Reyes answered before Jesse had even decided he wanted to ask the question.

There was a bullet scar high on Reyes’ right arm. Jesse breathed an open-mouthed kiss on it, half leaned over the man himself, floating on the knowledge that Reyes didn’t move because Jesse had his left hand curled around his waist.

Gabriel Reyes maybe could break his spine with his pinky, with all that strength and ruthlessness coiled under his skin. But that didn’t matter. Reyes let him.

Reyes also let him circle one of his nipples his tongue, let him hear his deepening breath. Reyes let Jesse feel his way up his neck with his lips and tongue, licking a slow path up to his ears and to the tiniest hitch in Reyes breath that went straight to Jesse’s cock.

Not that _that_ needed any more encouragement.

“Fuck boss, you’re beautiful.”

Gabe laughed a low “Sweet talker.” and reeled Jesse in for a kiss, a slow, decadent thing with a lot of breathing and lips and the slow dance version of tongue with small nips of teeth.

Staring down the whole of Overwatch with nothing but his old gun and 13 bullets had not taken as much courage as slipping his hand down over the short hairs of his boss’s pleasure trail and the soft fabric of his shorts to…

“Doing great, Jess…”

Jesse swallowed the last letter in another kiss, or maybe he stole it altogether when his palm slowly rubbed over Gabe’s cock through his shorts. Huge, pretty. He had to be pretty, all dark and full and fat.

Because that was not even a question. He curled his fingers around it through the shorts. He _felt_ it jump under his palm and strain into his touch.

Gabriel hissed and reached down with his left hand, shoving his pants down over his hips with a little help from Jesse.

He right arm fell away from Jesse’s shoulder on a low moan when Jesse finally closed his fingers around the warm, hard flesh.

He would never again be this brave, probably, but right now, he felt plenty brave, breaking away from Gabriel’s mouth to look down the length of his body and watch himself stroke up and down that cock, rub his thumb over the head to a choked off gasp from Gabriel.

Jesse heard the low “click” of a bottle from behind him, where Gabe’s right hand was, but he didn’t fear anything in that moment. He was giving a handjob to the world’s most dangerous man and that was all the kinds of hell yeah, even as slippery fingers slid between the cheeks of his ass and brought him back down to … not reality. Because that couldn’t be real.

But real enough.

“You tell me when I do something you don’t want, Jess.” Oh, so the name thing had been intentional.

Jesse shuddered.

He had always been Jesse or McCree or ‘you useless piece of shit’. Cute nicknames were for people that mattered something more than their ability with a gun.

“Yessir.”

He grinned.

“Don’t think you could, sir, cause a wan’ it all”

Which was a big statement when the fingers didn’t do anything at all yet just slowly circled his hole. Easy like the rolling shifts of Gabriel’s hips into Jesse’s hand.

But Gabriel’s left curled around his neck with a low laugh and dragged Jesse that last bit forward again to connect their lips for a kiss, just as he pushed in. A teasing finger, a low gasp from Jesse that Gabriel swallowed right away and a low spark of pleasure that Jesse knew from his own hands.

There was some maneuvering with both hands and Jesse found himself kneeling over those slim hips, kissing his boss and a finger slowly fucking his ass, better than he himself ever could. Maybe it was the novelty of it or just Gabe’s gun rough fingers, broad and strong, or the way it so combined with the lazy dance of their tongues.

He rocked back into it slowly, catching the moves when they slowed and then he sank back onto it, a little bit enough but not really. Feeding him an idea of what could be enough but never would be. A small fire, hungry already, on the verge of feeding itself.

He didn’t know when he had closed his eyes to sink deeper into that feeling but he knew that Gabe was watching him, felt the acute attention prickling in all his senses like he felt the second finger sinking into him, zeroing in on him solely. Absolute focus.

Jesse arched back into Gabriel’s hand with a moan as the fingers scissored inside him, biting his lips to catch the next sound from his mouth from making its embarrassing presence known to the world.

Dignity and all that shit that mattered when another man had his fingers up your ass and managed to find your sweet spot from an impossible position.

Screw that.

“Fuck, sir. Do that…”

Again. Yes. Like that.

Jesse pushed back into it and into the moan and Gabe’s low laugh and then he laughed as well, his hands planted firmly on Gabriel’s pecs, chasing the electricity that shot up his spine with lazy abandon. His cock bounced against Gabe’s abs with every shift of Jesse’s hips, leaving little trails of wetness on the skin, the little shifts just enough contact to promise more, just…

Jesse stilled on a low moan, forcing his eyes open only to find raw hunger staring back at him with the devil’s grin on Gabe’s face.

“Sir…” Jesse didn’t quite _know_ why he kept calling him that. He didn’t care for formalities on the best of his days, only when he fucked up or either of them was in a mood that warranted a little more…

_“There is a reason military protocol exists, McCree. You have people from wildly different backgrounds that need to work like a unit no matter what._

_The way you get and show respect works a lot different between Deadlock and the streets of New York. And doing it wrong can get you killed. That’s why you need a framework for people to move in. Boundaries. Safety nets.”_

_“A way to go belly up and say ‘please don’t hurt me’?”_

_“You wouldn’t know how to go belly up if you were a dead fish, McCree.”_

McCree had grinned and saluted without care, convinced that there was no situation where he’d need that safety over the freedom of just winging it.

Yet here he was, blindly making his way through this whole thing, feeling utterly safe just because he knew that saying  “Please don’t hurt me” meant that Gabriel Reyes would keep him safe.

Oh…

"Where are your thoughts at, kid?" Reyes asked, drawing Jesse from his own head.

  
"Military protocol, sir."

His commander raised a doubtful eyebrow and huffed a laugh about ‘miracles and wonders’ not once stopping in his skillful ministrations. So much so that McCree wondered for a moment if that was how he and Morrison ran Overwatch. And what ‘They’re in a meeting’ really meant.

Reyes watched him with a knowing smirk that said he could really read Jesse’s thoughts and was endlessly amused by them."And what does military protocol have to say about the situation?"

Jesse thought about not doing it for all of 1.5 seconds before he decided to just fuck it. So to speak."Please fuck me, sir?"

Gabriel blinked up at him with the casual laziness of a born predator before the smirk spread into a slow grin and he tugged Jesse down for a quick kiss.

“So polite,” he crooned and moved Jesse off him with barely any strain maneuvering him to his knees.

Jesse watched him over his shoulder, laughed a little as Gabriel bit the globe of his ass with a shit-eating grin and a wink.

There was nothing that could calm Jesse’s nerves like seeing how lightly his commander took this while …

‘Pampering’ him was the wrong word, ‘caring’ felt too vulnerable, though in his head, Jesse knew it was true.

He watched Gabe reach for the bedside table and pull out a pack of condoms that he tossed back onto the nightstand after ripping open a package. The words were out of Jesse’s mouth before he could fully identify what caused them

“Why rubbers? You know I’m clean.”

Gabe made quick work of the condom, barely looking at his hands and watching Jesse instead.

“I know you never had anybody fuck you, but little piggyback friends get on the ride in more than one way. Oral sex. Drugs use.” Gabe raised both eyebrows and Jesse felt his ire rise.

“I’m clean! And I never used injectors. My med file says I’m totally clean.”

“Alright,” Gabriel admitted, as he bent forward with his arms effectively caging Jesse’s shoulders and his lips almost touching his ear. “I know you are. But what about me, Jesse?”

“You?...but…”

“I regularly get shot at and bled on by people that I can swear do not use condoms and pump everything into their bodies they get their fingers on. I get spat at, pissed at on occasion and after you spent three days in any prison, you’ve come into contact with so much shit that you never, ever want to bring close to your partner.”

Warm lips pressed gently against Jesse’s temple and the young man had to close his eyes against the moment of guilt and understanding.

“I’m clean, too,” Gabriel murmured against his ear. “I do this out of principle. New person, been on a mission where you got in contact with the bad stuff? Condoms. Never risk your partner. Or yourself. I ever catch you without condoms, I’ll beat your ass all the way to Poughkeepsie, Cowboy. We clear?”

“Yessir.”

“If it helps… Jack hates it, too.”

Amusement bubbled up from Jesse’s belly.

“Can I at least look at you?” he asked, chewing on his lower lip with a little smirk.

“You really like looking at me, don’t you kid?”

“You’re awfully pretty, sir.”

Gabriel snorted and tumbled him over onto his back, eyes glittering under the heavy brows.

“Smartass,” he teased. “See what it gets you.”

He lifted Jesse’s leg onto his shoulder, exposing him, watching him all spread out until the heat rose in Jesse’s cheeks and he had to fight down the intense need to cover himself.

But then a rough hand slowly stroked down Jesse’s leg, all the way from his ankle to his hip, a sweet promise of a slow glide, while the other hand grabbed more of the lube and dumped a generous amount of - cold, sticky, beh - onto Jesse’s belly to easily scoop it up and push right back into his ass. Two blunt fingers and a much better angle and Jesse arched off the bed with a hiss when they found his sweet spot on the first go.

His cock, unappealed by the talk of condoms and STDs jumped to immediate attention again, curving against his belly, leaving more sticky stuff on his skin.

 _“_ Never have sex without a shower near,” Jesse muttered and Gabriel above him laughed and Jesse felt it down to the last push of those fingers, right to when Gabriel curled his fingers again - more this time? - scissoring them deep inside and Jesse saw stars.

“Think you can come like this Jesse?”

“Dunno. Don’t think so. Never tried.”

“Wanna at some point?”

“Maybe? Just not now. I ...” Heat rose in Jesse’s cheeks. “...want something else,” finished lamely, avoiding Gabriel’s gaze and the gentleness of his smile as he said “Ok.” and withdrew his fingers.

Jesse missed them immediately over the nervous thud of his heartbeat.

Gabriel scooped more of the lube off Jesse’s belly and slathered it generously over his cock.

Because of course, Gabriel Reyes did _not_ have to deal with cold lube.

Jesse lost that though immediately when the fat head of Gabriel’s cock nudged at his entrance and then slowly, as Gabe leaned forward, effectively immobilizing Jesse’s body with their position, pushed past his entrance and inside.

“Relax, baby,” Gabe whispered, letting go of the leg over his shoulder to curl both lower arms over Jesse’s head and shoulders on the bed, bringing their faces as close together as possible, caging him, shielding him, maybe, or maybe it was about Gabe controlling his own body, holding perfectly still while only the head of his cock pushed inside and he waited Jesse out until…

Fuck.

Lips found Jesse’s in a sweet, languid kiss, beard scratching his chin and cheeks as a warm, wet tongue demanded entrance and soft lips pressed over his, their breaths mingling in an electrifying distraction.

“Got you,” he murmured into the kiss. And “Let me take care of you.” and it was so easy to hand over the survival-born need for control to him, to relax around the almost pain-pressure of the intrusion and just accept the low burning fire of nerves being caressed as Gabriel began to carefully rock into him.

First, it felt strange, then good strange and then Jesse had to tear away from the kiss with a gasp when it started to feel nothing but good and he needed the additional air for the breathy gaps that spilled from his mouth with each slow sink-shift thrust into his body.

Jesse opened his eyes that he somehow must have closed without realizing, right into Gabriel Reyes’ murder stare, the last thing bad people saw before the met the business end of a shotgun. Jesse remembered that gaze, but not like this, with sweat glistening on the bronze skin of his commander and a hungry grin on his lips.

“You look like you wanna eat me, boss,” Jesse moaned at the first real thrust, more than a careful testing of how much he could take.

“I _do_ wanna eat you, McCree. You look delectable.”

Jesse curled his free leg around Gabriel’s slim waist, snorting a giddy laugh.

“Well… provecho, jefe!”

He was still chuckling as Gabriel began to _move,_ long, rolling thrusts that set the flame ablaze inside him, turning the sound in a shaky groan.

No time to get used to it, Gabriel closed his lips and teeth over Jesse’s nipple, biting, sucking licking, tugging him higher, like the overtone to the symphony he played inside Jesse.

Not knowing what to do but in desperate need to hold onto something, Jesse curled his arms around those broad shoulders, his fingernails digging deep into the scarred skin.

He arched up off the bed, pressing his face into Gabriel’s hair, gasping nonsense, as his hips shifted into the onslaught.

He found his mouth caught in a sloppy, chaotic kiss, drinking Gabriel’s quickening breaths from his lips, the groan that wrenched from the back of Jesse’s throat as Gabriel curled his broad hand around his cock, caught between them.

They rocked together, getting lost in the rhythm of their quickening breaths, endless string of praise falling from Gabriel’s lips, telling how well Jesse did, how good he looked with his lips kiss swollen and red and how beautiful his moans sounded with every sharp spark of pleasure that made its way up Jesse’s spine with every more and more erratic slap of their hips.

He felt it bubble up from the depths of his body, like a scream that could not be contained, too much, too loud

“Gabriel!” His words sounded beyond desperate. “Sir, please…”

There was nothing left to coordinate the shift - thrust between Gabriel’s cock and his hand on Jesse’s cock, only jerking moment and silent prayers that his commander wouldn’t back away now and leave Jesse hanging when he was so close, flying so high to-

Teeth dug into the soft skin of his neck, tugging, nibbling, writing words into his skin.

“Wonderful, tight, hot, beautiful. Jesse”

They sucked a bruise over his jugular like a mark of possession and Jesse arched into the fingers that rubbed over the head of his cock, choking on a scream that never fully came to fruition when Gabe squeezed his cock and stroked down one last time and Jesse’s mind blanked.

For a moment, he was aware of nothing, then the sound of heavy breathing filtered through, small puffs of air against Jesse’s neck and the barely controlled minuscule jerks of a still hard cock inside him.

A quivering hand stroking him through the last aftershocks. Sticky come on his belly, lips that peppered little kisses behind his ear.

“You need me to stop?” Gabriel’s voice rumbled, barely piercing the leaden haze of bliss.

“Stop...what?”

Gabriel gave one slow thrust, sinking deep into Jesse, only to stop at the first sign of Jesse shuddering at the intensity of the touch.

“For some it becomes painful. I can take care of myself.”

Instead of an answer, Jesse clenched his ass and smiled. “Nah, go for it.”

Gabriel did.

One arm pushed under Jesse’s back, lifting his hips for a smoother access, the other pushed under his shoulders, like a very well loved doll and then Gabriel moved. Hard, no nonsense thrusts that fanned the last dying embers to one last afterglow fever height, Gabriel’s groan at Jesse’s ear the music to it, growing more desperate as his movements became more erratic and finally… a gasp.

 

~

 

“Will you crush me if your arms give in?” Jesse asked softly after about 30 seconds and was rewarded with a huff.

“My arms won’t give in. Also, I’m not that heavy, you ingrate.”

“I’m a 19-year-old male, I haven’t reached my full muscle mass and bone density yet. I am delicate.”

Gabe rolled off him with a laugh and the weird feeling of sticky things and a soft cock pulling out of his ass and… weird.

“Why is it that you always suddenly remember shit when you can use it against someone’s authority, McCree?”

Jesse found his hair ruffled by a heavy hand, found his fucked out, rarely relaxed commander grinning at him from the other side of the bed.

“It’s a gift.”

Gabe snorted and swung his legs out of bed. “Yeah right, among other things. Relax. I’ll be right back.”

McCree didn’t even know if he could move should he try, maybe if someone attempted to kill him or an earthquake happened or a general alarm… but short of that?

He watched Gabriel Reyes’ naked form trot towards the bathroom, taking care of the condom as he went. No nonsense as usual. Smiling, Jesse closed his eyes. Just for a minute.

  
***

 

He woke to the figure of Strike Commander Jack Morrison standing over him, illuminated by a golden shimmer of light falling from the living room at his back.

Gabriel had curled around Jesse again, warm and solid, an arm thrown around Jesse’s middle. Most sticky stuff had been removed and it was a testament to how tired Jesse had been that he had let another touch him without waking. Or trust, maybe.

But trust or no, his commander was at his back and his commander’s extremely powerful, extremely imposing shadow figure of a boyfriend stood in front of him. And that was a generally shitty position to be in.

Morrison’s head tilted towards Jesse, deep shadows cutting over his features, rendering him into an unreadable black and white nightmare caricature of the friendly guy from the tv screens.

 

“Explain,” he grated.

Before Jesse could fully draw a breath to say “I’m sorry,” a big hand closed over his mouth.

“Shh, it’s okay.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Explain.” Strike Commander Morrison stood in Gabriel’s room in full regalia and Gabe wanted to sock him for being a fucking idiot, for the way Jesse - sweetly snoring, languid, relaxed Jesse who finally had let his guard down for _anybody_ \- tensed against him, heartbeat kicking up, breath stalling a second before he went into damage mitigation and survival mode.

Gabriel loved that man like a shadow loved the sun that cast him but right then and there, he wanted to clock him for scaring the boy with the safe assumptions of his dumb Indiana middle class upbringing.

The words out of Jesse’s mouth withered against the palm of Gabriel's hand and the quiet reassurance that that everything was ok.

Jesse acquiesced. His heart beat did not.

“Doster informed you?”

Jack ground his teeth and yeah Gabriel got it... Still...

“Cut it Jack. You’re scaring Jesse.”

“Boss, I can-”

Gabriel dropped a kiss into the soft mess of Jesse’s hair, watching Jack deflate above them, the Strike Commander turning back into just Jack.

“Apologies.” A careless hand brushed through corn blond hair as Jack’s shoulders sagged. “Doster send me a message before I got yours. What happened?”

Jack gestured to them, to the rumpled sheets where they lay curled up into each other, bodies tangled in an obvious display of how they came to be in that position.

Against his chest, Jesse’s breathing softened back into his natural state of keen alertness, listening and checking every bit of information that floated by.

He’d notice the angle of Jack’s shoulders as he shrugged out of his coat, the familiarity with which he tossed it blindly at the lone chair in Gabriel’s bedroom.

Jesse would know how much Jack belonged here, even more than he had known before.

He’d notice the way Jack tensed at Gabriel’s next words.

“I am loath to say that someone _lied_  about his sexual experience.” Jesse shifted awkwardly. “But there have been omissions in the preparations of today’s session.”

Jack’s hands stilled on his jacket as his eyes zeroed in on their resident gunslinger. “Are you ok?”

The sound Jesse made was rife with confusion and ill-tempered pride, every inch the fighter he had been raised at and not the soldier, Gabe had tried to instill in him.

In the dim light, Gabriel saw Jack’s lip twitch in recognition of the same memory.

“Why is everybody hounding my ass if I’m ok like I’m a dainty little princess? I’m fine!”

Their eyes met over his head and Gabriel noticed with satisfaction the faint shimmer of old guilt on Jack’s face. “Because you’re not the first one to pull that particular stunt, McCree, and it doesn’t always end that easily.”

McCree squirmed a little at Jack’s handwave towards the bed. “Whatever.”

“It’s training, Jack. Remedial education.”

“Sure, Gabe.”

Gabriel heard the amusement in Jack’s voice as he turned away to shrug off his jacket, actually hang up his coat and get rid of his boots, gradually shucking the strike commander altogether.

McCree hadn’t, or it never registered past the sentence his mind got stuck on.

“What happened to the first one who...omitted,” he asked, stumbling only a little over where ‘was so stupid to let people think everything was ok’ should have been.

“He puked his guts out in the bathroom, having a near breakdown when I found him at 4am coming in fresh from a simulation, high on adrenalin and SEP drugs.” Gabriel staged whispered back, loud enough for Jack to hear. A war and the years had dulled the impact of the memory on pride and self-image, dulled the blade until it no longer cut either of them.

“But I passed that module,” Jack responded, choosing that exact moment to pull his shirt over his head, effectively hiding his face as he spoke.

“What was it about ‘passing it not the sole goal’, boss?” Jesse quipped and Gabriel felt nothing but pride at the way he called Jack out on his shit. He reveled in the way Jesse turned his head into yet another soft kiss into his hair.

“You hear that, Jackie? Stop undermining my educational efforts.”

Jackie glared over his shoulder and dropped his pants and underpants in one fluid motion before he grabbed his sleeping pants from the drawer, flashing his perfect ass without shame and Gabriel could hear and feel Jesse gasp against him.

“Is this happening?”

“Unless you don't wan't it, then say so,” Gabriel murmured into Jesse’s hair, watching Jack slurch closer with the movements of a man who just spent 8 hours in a meeting with the UN oversight committee.

Gabriel felt him smile and relax at the nickname, going almost pliant under his hands before he answered.

“Nah. I’m good.” The answer was loud enough for everybody to hear. The addition low enough to be meant only for Gabriel’s ears. “Holy shit, look at those boobs!”

Jack was oblivious, bless his cornfed heart.

He didn’t notice the way Gabriel buried his face into Jesse’s neck at his gunslinger’s attempt at distracting from the situation or his own insecurities. He didn’t hear the muffled sounds Gabriel snorted into Jesse’s skin to keep them from breaking free and if he did… bless his cornfed heart.

He stopped next to the bed and stared at the spot where Gabe and Jesse had naturally gravitated to, smack in the middle, then he pointed at his side, at Jesse and grumbled.

“Move, Jesse, I am _not_ sharing my pillow.”

They shuffled around awkwardly, tugging blankets in place, rearranging themselves until Jack could curl up and reach out to touch Gabriel’s hand on Jesse’s shoulder with a slow blink of a trusting cat.

“You’re really ok? He took good care of you?” he asked, unable to let his worry rest.

Jesse took pity on him. “Very good care, sir.”

The ‘sir’ threw him. Gabriel saw him blink over Jesse’s head but he was too tired to do anything about it.

Jack knew it too, huffing softly as he closed his eyes, just giving in to his body’s demands.

Now, if his body’s demands and will to sleep were only enough for once to let him rest.

 

***

 

They weren’t of course….

“Is he sleeping?”

Jesse stirred from his fake sleeping position against Gabe and cast a glance across the half arm distance that separated him from Jack and shook his head.

“Are you sleeping Jack?” Gabe asked innocently.

The man on the other side of the bed answered with the annoyed grunt of someone who desperately wanted to and knew there was no rest for him. Not in this life.

“Want me to put you to sleep?” Gabe pushed himself up on McCree’s shoulder and peered down at his partner, at the one blue eye that peeked back at him from under Jack’s forearm.

Predictably, Jack jerked his head in direction of McCree in a minuscule movement, the question clear.

“Hey, Jesse…” Gabriel turned his gaze towards the young man. “How much would you mind if Jack fucked me real nice and slow while I suck you off? The option to get up and walk out is always on the table. No questions asked.”

Jack’s disbelieving noise coincided with the look on McCree’s face, before the latter snorted a surprised laugh and Jack just gave up and groaned.

“I can’t believe you sometimes, Gabe. You really have no shame.” Jack dropped the arm and glared at both of them.

“What is there to be ashamed of?” Carefully hoisting himself over McCree’s slender body, Gabriel slid between the two of them to come to rest half on Jack’s body. “The kid can look out for himself. That is more than I can say of you. You never could. Never did, Jackie.”

Jack’s short hair caught in the calluses on Gabriel’s fingers and he brushed through it. “You’re too good for this world, Sweetheart, and the world is  ruthlessly abusing the fact.”

He brushed his lips over Jack’s, feeling, against Jack’s semi-disappointed glare, how they welcomed the touch and relaxed. “And that is why you have me. To take care of your All- American ass. Let the bad boys do their job, Strike Commander. Close your eyes and think of something patriotic.”

This time, Jack laughed along with Jesse.

“Is that an order, Commander Reyes?” Jack asked with twinkling eyes, no longer the Striker Commander but the man who had asked this question with mischief in his eyes numerous times between and after bloody battles, distracting Gabriel easily from the darkness he lived so close to.

“Do you need it to be one?”

In lieu of an answer, Jack flipped them over, coming to rest on Gabriel’s minimally lighter frame, his arms curved over Gabriel’s shoulder, his lips barely a breath away from a kiss.

“Hi there. Missed you.”

Gabriel curled a leg around Jack’s and allowed himself the moment of weakness to close his eyes and smile.

 

Sometimes Jack liked it slow on nights like these, rocking into each other, kisses, taking their time as they so rarely could.

Tonight though?

“Hey, Jesse,” he flipped the switch from besotted partner to hungry man in the span of a second. “Hand me the lube, please, it’s under Gabe’s pillow.”

Jesse took a moment to react, too engrossed in watching them with something close to adoration on his face. Jack had seen it too, if the little smirk on his lips was any indication. But he said nothing, just took the lube, brushing his fingers along Jesse’s with a smile, before he stole a kiss from Gabriel’s lips.

People thought that Gabriel Reyes was kinky as fuck, but they never had actually met all-American posterboy Jack Morrison who liked a few things that nobody would suspect or had any business knowing. Contrary to his continued protestations, Jack also had even less shame than Gabriel.

Even Gabe forgot that sometimes, but as he watched Jack smile at Jesse now, sliding off Gabriel’s body to turn him to his side, the knowledge came rushing back with the thrill of feeling Jack’s erection grow against his thigh.

Jack really had no shame.

“Hey Jesse,” he asked casually, “do you mind distracting Gabriel while I prepare him? I don’t want to do all the heavy lifting alone.”

“I…” Jesse blinked. “With all due respect, sir? You don’t look like you should be doing any heavy lifting anymore today.” He grinned and and curled close enough to Gabe to curl a gun roughened hand around his hip and lean in for a kiss. “...sir.”

Before the kid could bring himself into real trouble beyond Jack’s startled snort, Gabriel caught his lips and slipped his tongue between.

Behind him, Jack laughed and hauled Gabriel away from their gunslinger and onto his knees, leaving a gaping Jesse to stare up at his Commander, suddenly on all fours above him.

“Well,” Jack didn’t let the kid catch his breath. “Then get up here.”

Gabriel had a prime seat to Jesse’s slack jawed expression but also the moment his eyes started to sparkle and he scrambled to his knees to join Jack.

For one second, Gabriel wanted to follow, make sure his boy was ok, but it was fleeting, melting with the warmth in Jack’s voice as he asked if Jesse allowed a kiss.

A short fleeting thing, followed by Jesse’s awed “wow.”

Casting a glance over his shoulder, Gabriel caught the tail end of the wistful smile that Jack gave the back of Jesse’s head as he turned him around by the shoulders, curled over his more slender body and ran his hands down his arms to press the lube between his fingers.

“Unless you know otherwise, always assume the other is nervous, inexperienced or a dainty prince in need of a lot of care,” Jack murmured into Jesse’s ear, eying Gabriel with a willful twinkle to his eyes, providing the perfect opening for Jesse.

“Is he?”

“Gabe? Nah, he’s about as delicate as a workhorse.” Jack gently patted Gabe’s ass. “Though he does like it slow, sometimes. Leisurely, sweet.”

“Jack…!” Instead of looming called out, Gabe’s partner smiled back at him, over a flushed Jesse’s shoulder where the young man couldn’t see it.

“But more importantly, Jesse...what do you want?”

  


***

 

“This!” Jesse wanted to scream, might have if his breath hadn’t suddenly deserted him and left him staring at the man in front of him, leaning weakly against another behind him, still thinking about how Jack’s lips were so different, barely able to follow the instructions of pouring lube into his hand, warming it.

“Right, because _we_ are not assholes…,” he managed to quip, because this ability never left him, not even in the face of Gabriel Reyes’ perfect ass or Jack ‘Oh my God how gorgeous” Morrison’s erection casually resting against Jesse’s thigh through the fabric of his pyjama pants.

Just like it was perfectly normal to be here. And do this. With them.

“You’re right, Jesse” Jack murmured, gently guiding Jesse’s hand. “You say if it’s too much?”

“‘m not a wilting virgin.”

“And this is not exactly normal circumstances, Jesse.”

Jesse stared at Gabe, at his own hand dwarfed by Jack’s and slowly circling Gabe’s fluttering hole.

“I haven’t had a normal circumstance day in my life.” Jesse spoke slow, gave weight to his words to convince the man who knew him far less well than his commander and who he couldn’t read with the same ease to hit the right spots in his answers. “this here jus’ happens to be nicer than most of them. Real nice.”

Jack’s lips grazed Jesse’s ear before he covered his hand fully and slowly, inexorably pressed Jesse’s finger in. Alongside his own.

“We do this because I know Gabe.”

Gabe grunted softly and pushed back to meet them.

“He’s impatient.”

Guiding Jesse’s hand, Jack worked hard to control his breath against his shoulder to appear as cool and unaffected as he early.wasn’t.

“Wants us to move faster”

Jack slowly twisted his finger away from Jesse’s, curled it in a slow tease that got another grunt out of the Blackwatch commander.

“Fuck you, Jack.”

“Soon, Gabe.”

“He’s a tease, McCree. Don’t get snared in his charm or I’ll ship you off as his new executive assistant. We clear?”

Jesse barely heard them over the rush of blood in his ears, their banter a safe backdrop to his own wild running thoughts.

“Weird. I’ve shot people but never done this.”

Gabe grumbled “Don’t remind me.” the same moment the Strike Commander’s perplexed voice asked next to Jesse’s ear. “Do I wanna know how you got to this thought all of a sudden?”

His partner had no time to fully warn him before Jesse turned and grinned. “Holes, sir.”

Jesse felt his commander’s groan all the way to his hand and felt it turn into a very different kind of groan when Jack turned his laughter into a slow bend of his and Jesse fingers, taking control over their movements again.

“Holes, hm?” The amusement still tinged his voice. “You wanna be careful here, because he’s pretty sensitive, but he loves this.”

He pressed Jesse’s fingers down and Gabe groaned hoarsely as a reward.

It was hypnotising, just letting the Strike Commander take control over what Jesse’s hand did, watching Gabriel’s thighs quiver with every movement, every slow turn that Jack knew exactly how to execute.

Consciously, Jesse was aware how achingly hard his own dick was, felt the precum leak down over the skin. He felt Jack’s press against his thigh through the fabric of his sleeping pants.

But past that, like through a strangers eyes, he wanted nothing more than to watch the quivers that ran down Gabriel’s back, listen to him moan into his arm, cursing Jack - and only Jack - under his breath. He wanted to watch him be taken apart. Make him come.

He whispered the same to Jack and got a knowing smile in return as Jack pulled back, leaving him alone with Gabe’s ass and the low, deep sounds he made when Jesse did something right.

“No cold feet?” Jack asked, his lips curled up at the edges.

Looking from the Strike Commander shoving down his pants to Gabriel Reyes and the way he had his face pressed against his lower arms.

“No just….” McCree admitted. “thinking logistics.”

He pulled back his hand when it became awkward and Jack subtly pushed him aside to pull Gabe down onto the bed and to his side and lie down behind him.

“With…” Jesse pointed from himself to Jack, from Jack to Gabe, Gabe’s crotch and his own and made some smacking noise that probably counted as immature even in a 14-year-old.

The other two seemed to understand perfectly fine, though.

“You’ll figure it out, Hotshot. You want it? You’ll figure it out.”

He did. He would. He knew what he wanted and hell, he wanted. As he watched Jack pull Gabriel’s back flush to his front, lift his thigh, as he heard Gabe’s slow moan, Jesse almost came just looking at Jack slowly sinking his cock into his partner. Only a quick squeeze around his dick saved him the embarrassment.

A slow countdown from ten, a deep breath, and always aware of two pairs of eyes on him, following his every move until he finally found the confidence in his own self-control to shuffle closer, into Gabe’s waiting hand curling around his hip and the warm approval in his grin curling around his heart.

“That’s my boy,” he whispered before tugging McCree close enough to wrap his lips around his dick and make everything white out for a moment except for the sight of this perfect thing that he felt down to the tips of his toes.

McCree curled his hand around the back of Gabriel’s neck and slowly began to shift his hips, always watching for signs of disapproval while coordinating his movements to Jack’s because… he just did.

Easier than to think through the warmth and wetness and the way an agile tongue wrapped around his dick. Or to listen to the soft slurping sounds. The hunger in the dark eyes staring up at him. The ‘I want this’. The ‘let me want you’.

He reached out with the other hand, pinching, circling, rubbing Gabriel’s nipple. Weak replacement to what he really wanted.

Screw that.

Ignoring Gabe’s sound of protest he wriggled away from the hand that kept him in place, all too aware of Jack’s knowing grin and his soundless “Go for it.”

Yeah, he would. Screw everything. Just go for it.

He almost laughed with the heady combination of nerves and elation at finally getting what he’d low key wanted since this began or even before. There wasn’t enough wrong with him to not want this.

Facing Gabriel Reyes’ dick while stretched out in front of him, wrapping his hand around it, and his lips tasting the salt of precum and the musk that ---- oh fuck Gabriel.

Oh fuck Gabriel, when the man pulled Jesse’s hips close again and went right back to what he had been doing, lips sucking, tongue dancing and slow bobbing motions of his head, mirroring Jesse’s and Jack’s easy thrusts. Mirroring everything.

And still going too damn slow for the sake of him.

Or their own sake and he had just stumbled in a geriatric parallel universe where this was how you had sex.

Reaching out he palmed Jack’s balls, so close, prime view on the way he sunk deep into Gabe’s body and the shudder that wrecked him did when Jesse started to roll them in his hand. A prime feeling of the effect it had on the mouth wrapped around Jesse’s dick, sudden motion, tightening, deeper, a dash of teeth.

A surge of brilliant arousal shooting up Jesse’s spine.

Like this.

He forced Gabe’s dick deeper, pulling rusty skills from memory as he settled into a comfortable rhythm, losing himself in the hypnotic motion. Up. Down. Easy thrusts into the wet slide around his own cock. Massaging Jack’s balls, Gabe’s Jack’s cock.

Hell, a world of nice things to touch just lay before him, just waiting to be explored.

The salty-sweetness on his tongue, the heady richness that smelled like Gabriel, like being held down on a training mat and being berated for his skills. Like being held when his head swam from bloodloss and the promise of not dying.

And Jack, the glorious, beautiful golden boy, so perfect and untouchable, strict. Whispering filth into Gabriel Reyes’ ear, loud enough for Jesse to hear him stutter, every time, he touched Jack’s dick or balls or did some clever dip-twist lap thing on Gabriel’s dick that had Gabriel do things to Jack’s dick in his ass. Which was a though that almost instantly rushed Jesse to the brink of orgasm without his boss sucking down his cock like it was the best thing since cherry flavored popsicles.

That thought almost cooled him down again but then Gabriel dipped his tongue into the slit and bopped his head until he has almost taken all of Jesse and moaned like a damn porn princess around an actually popsicle and...

  
  
  
  


His throat hurt. Not the bad hurt of an infection, only a memory of unrelenting pressure as Jack Morrison pumped the Blackwatch Commander’s cock into Jesse’s mouth. The scratch of desperate fingernails on his scalp, Gabriel’s words.

“For fuck’s sake, McCree. Jesse. Jess!”

The taste of him that made the rawness better, but not the pinch of strained skin around his mouth  as Jesse grinned.

“You look like the cat that stole the canary.”

Turning his head, Jesse found the warmth of Jack’s smile in his exhausted face.

“And the cream,” he joked and licked his lips.

That made Jack laugh despite the ear splitting yawn that cracked his face.

“Definitely the cream, gatito.”

The Spanish was a stark reminder that Jack Morrison was not just the dumb and heroic posterboy but also a very intelligent man, one, who couldn’t really pass on the opportunity of Gabe being in the bathroom.

“I would ask if you are alright, but it might end badly for me,” he joked.

Jesse considered him and turned onto his back before answering. “Shouldn’t you be like sleeping or something?”

“I will.” Jack didn’t sound concerned, what with how desperate he had been to just doze off earlier was a big fat lie.

“Do you ever stop doing this...thing..?”

“Yes?”

“Working when you don’t work?”

A sigh in the dim light and Jesse couldn’t help the grin at the faintly guilty tone.

“Can’t I worry about you outside of work? We are outside of work after all. As far as we possibly ever get.”

With a blanket that faintly smelled of Gabriel Reyes’ rubbing lazy promises over the naked skin of Jesse’s legs and hips, he couldn’t really disagree to that except that this was Jack Morrison and Jack Morrison was the _Strike Commander_  and barely ever or anywhere existed as a person that was not tied to his work.  Not in this world where everything he did tended to shake the politics of a smaller country or some sovereign entity or two.

And maybe this was the secret. The only sovereign entity that could be shook in here was Gabriel Reyes, who was about as movable as magma forged steel.

“Moved” in the most innocent meaning. They moved plenty together. Apparently.

Private Person Jack Morrison was still watching him across his pillow and Jesse sighed.

It was not really a bad truth, but as truths went, they were always dangerous. But, he decided, this one had run its course.

“I kept thinking, just settle for the next best thing…Just get it over with. It’s just sex.”

“It isn’t. Sometimes it just isn’t. Not if you had to fight for a long time”

“No,” Jesse admitted and longed for a cigarette like his next breath. “But I got lucky!”

Jack took Jesse’s eyebrow wiggle a roll of his eyes. “Dumb lucky. Yes.”

“But still lucky.” He’d have to live with the wistful tone that crept into his voice at the memory - the still present reality.

“Because Gabriel. Because you like him?”

“I love ‘im,” he spoke before he even thought about the implications of what he was saying to whom. “I mean… not like this,” he corrected quickly. “He’s just ...the most important person in my life.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. The shower started in the bathroom. A nice shower. A lot bigger than Jesse’s own and he would abuse it before he left.

After this and the weird heart to heart that felt like a completely normal thing to have with Strike Commander Morrison after having sex with him and his partner.

Jesse watched the doubtful ridge appear between Jack’s eyebrows and steeled himself for the bad question.

“Of course he is. What about Ana?”

Ana was a great woman, beautiful, gifted, great teacher, a rock in the chaos that McCree called his life but she just wasn’t...alright. so maybe he had a little crush on Gabriel Reyes.

“Ana makes me wanna get better. But the Commander makes me wanna be _good_ ” He shrugged. “Like I deserve all this shit somehow. Be more than jus’ good at killing people.”

The frown on Jack’s face stayed, even as his expression softened into something embarrassing that Jesse pretended hard not to notice in the dim light of the room, looking at each other over rumpled sheets and a bottle of lube.

“That is a lot of power for one man to have over another, Jesse.”

“I knew that. I agreed anyways. That was the deal.”

“Between a bleeding delinquent and the man who held his life in his hands. Neither of you are that anymore.”

“Word is word, big boss. Deal is a deal where I come from. Everything else gets you dead.”

“Would you have not done it if that” Jack made a vague hand waving motion. “didn’t stand between you?”

“That’s not the point,” Jesse protested, all too aware of Jack’s eyeroll.

“That is the only point. Look to the door, Jesse. Think of what it means and whether you want to walk out of here, whether you care or not. And then imagine it with the chance of coming back.”

Licking his lips, Jesse dared to dream for a short, brave moment of being able to just walk in that door and belong.

“This is not about training, is it?”

Jack shook his head without lifting it from the pillow he had shooed Jesse off of earlier.

“It’s about you.”

“Why? You barely know me. I am not _that_ impressive in bed. Really.”

The snark conjured the boyish grin onto Jack’s lips and the light that was not the Strike Commander into his eyes.

“And I don’t need it. I can get Doster over with any time.”

“It’s not about training. Can’t something be just for you? Because you ...maybe not deserve it but because someone wants to give you something nice?”

Reaching over, Jack flicked Jesse’s ear. “My seconds in command keep telling me how impressive this kid is, how deserving of a chance and whenever I look at him - except for when he has taken to interpreting the rules again - I agree. Believe me or don’t, but I know what it feels like to never be able to slow down and not just survive for a while. Took me about four years after the crisis.”

Memories built a bombed out landscape from the shadow of memories in Jack’s eyes before they were driven away by a glance to the bathroom and a smile that used those same memories as weapons.

Jesse didn’t say anything. What could he even say. He knew that look, he barely ever had known people without it in their eyes.

“I live,” Jesse said, wiggling his brows in Jack’s direction.

Jack laughed. “Don’t let us stop you from living more. Isn't there anybody on the base that ever caught your eye?”

Jesse thought about it and immediately could name three people, yet, at the end of the list there was a thought. _I already have something I want._

“My biggest problem right now is that if I walk out that door, I ain’t be coming back, Commander, no matter what I do out there.”

Jack closed his eyes and seriously seemed to think. When he opened them, sincerety glowed within and he smiled.

“How about a different deal, then?”

  


***

 

Kicking the heavy door shut with his heel, Gabriel banned the voices of everybody needing something to where they belonged: outside.

Coffee sloshed dangerously in the cups in his hands - half/half for Jack because he was hurtling straight towards an ulcer as it was and straight black double for himself because 80 hours on his feet and nobody needed to know.

“Hey,” he smiled at the tired man behind the desk and drew his gaze from the screens in front of him.

Jack looked up with a smile in response and reached for the offered cup as Gabriel slid onto the desk to take a peek at the screens.

He knew what he’d find there, of course. Jack wasn’t Jack if he didn’t fuss over his people like a benevolent King Arthur over Britain, forever worried over his smallest ducklings.

Good thing that Gabriel had that covered.

“I just had a little chat with Kwiatkowski.”

Unsurprisingly, Jack looked less than happy.

“I asked you not to.”

Because, no matter how much Jack fussed over every minute detail of Doster’s report, he insisted on letting Jesse make his own mistakes, on giving him freedom.

Gabriel agreed. He wholeheartedly agreed with that whole weird plan of Jack’s, but he also believed in risk mitigation.

“And I decided to ignore it. Kwiatkowski is a player of the worst kind and Jesse _does_  have some deficits in his emotional reactions. I read Doster’s reports too, you know?”

“I’m not reading his report.” Jack tapped on the screen, trying to close a window in a perfect admission of guilt because he was the world’s worst liar.

Gabe checked out the display for real this time. “You’re just watching the video... “

“I need to be up to date with my agent’s process.”

“* _My_ * agent,” Gabriel corrected. “He passed, by the way.”

And if Gabriel sounded a little smug about the fact that Jesse had strolled through the worst that Doster could do to him with flying colors, sue him.

Jack though…

“Listen Gabriel… Jesse needs to find his own way. He needs to make his mistakes…”

“...not with Kwiatkowski,” Gabriel cut his partner off. “And not as long as this little ‘deal’ of yours is still running. There’s still a week left…”

“For him to do whatever he wants and we won’t interfere…,” Jack tried again, but there were things that Gabriel wouldn’t budge on.

He didn’t disagree with Jack or the way he had dealt with Jesse’s permanent fight or flight instincts and allowed him absolute freedom. Jack had managed to level the power imbalances, yet kept him close to the two of them by allowing him back into their bed (shower, couch or, at one memorable, nightmare fueled instance that neither of them talked about, Gabriel’s arms for a two hour long hug until Jesse had stopped shaking) whenever he wanted for a whole four weeks - reevaluation of the deal pending after that time was up.

But none of that meant, Gabriel agreed to stand by and watch some asshole ruin his boy by faking feelings only to dump their partner as soon as they started to believe them.

“Commander’s discretion, Jack. I have to protect my assets…”

The moment Jack rubbed the bridge of his nose with a defeated sigh, Gabriel knew he had won.

“You’re supposed to not pull rank on Jesse, Gabe…”

Gabriel swallowed what was left of his coffee in one big drought and flopped over the desk to steal the much sweeter taste off Jack’s lips.

“I didn’t. I pulled rank on _Kwiatkowski,_  babe.”

And despite the frown, Jack smiled. “You’re incorrigible. Go get some rest and motherhen our boy until I get out of here in… ugh... 6 hours give or take.”

“He’s showered, fed and asleep in my bed. Not even Jesse can fuck that up.”

Jack laughed. “Please don’t surprise me there. Just get some shut eye, Gabe. You’ve been there the whole three days, too, and it looks like we might have a situation coming up in the Sahel. So just...get some rest.”

Stealing another kiss, Gabe sorted his feet into a standing position, cradling Jack’s face with all the care that they kept under a tight lid out there and smiled with the humor that people insisted he didn’t have. “Don’t be late. I’m thinking about convincing the kid to keep going after our month is up. Might need your help.”

He saw Jack shake his head from the corner of his eyes as he sauntered out of the office but he also saw the smile.

Maybe Jesse would walk away after the months was up, maybe he would hook up with the cute cook that was eyeing him with the subtlety of a freight train. Maybe he would walk away next month or later.

It didn’t matter. He was asleep in Gabe’s room now. Safe, for now. And if surviving - stopping - the apocalypse had taught Gabriel Reyes one thing, then that society forever was one wrong button, one executive decision away from total chaos. So screw socially acceptable.

For now, Jesse was his to care for. _Theirs._

 


End file.
